


greeks in the age of rome

by steelplatedhearts



Series: we are all just trying to be holy [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 15:12:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1862457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelplatedhearts/pseuds/steelplatedhearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tension drains out of Bucky’s frame, but Steve narrows his eyes. “He can make his own decisions, Helena.”</p><p>Helena folds her arms and sticks out her chin, invading Steve’s space. “Well, he doesn’t like to,” she says. “He likes getting instructions. And if you instruct him to order earl grey tea with a little bit of honey, he’ll drink it all, because he likes this.” She backs down and turns to Bucky. “Tell the nice woman you want a large earl grey tea with honey.”</p><p>“Thank you,” Bucky says, and Helena shoots Steve a triumphant look.</p>
            </blockquote>





	greeks in the age of rome

Getting Bucky’s arm tuned up has so far proven to be an unpleasant experience all around. So, to smooth things out a bit, Steve takes Bucky and Helena to get coffee after. He orders straight black coffee for himself, and Helena orders hot chocolate with extra whipped cream.

“You want anything, Bucky?” he asks.

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly, and his gaze skitters across the menu board as he shrinks away from the counter. “I don’t—”

“You want tea,” Helena says, interrupting him. “Earl grey, with a little bit of honey.”

The tension drains out of Bucky’s frame, but Steve narrows his eyes. “He can make his own decisions, Helena.”

Helena folds her arms and sticks out her chin, invading Steve’s space. “Well, he doesn’t like to,” she says. “He likes getting instructions. And if you instruct him to order earl grey tea with a little bit of honey, he’ll drink it all, because he likes this.” She backs down and turns to Bucky. “Tell the nice woman you want a large earl grey tea with honey.”

“Thank you,” Bucky says, and Helena shoots Steve a triumphant look.

He asks Sam about it later.

“Choice paralysis,” Sam says. “I’ve heard of stuff like that. He’s been stuck without being able to make choices for so long that choices are overwhelming now. He’s more comfortable with being told what to do.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Steve says, “but I just wish—”

He breaks off, rubbing a hand over his face, and Sam puts a hand on his shoulder.

“You just wish he’d ask you,” he says.

Steve sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

*   *   *   *   *  

Next time they go out, he doesn’t protest when Helena orders for Bucky.

“And he’ll have pancakes,” she says, staring at the menu. “With bacon and a vanilla milkshake.”

After the waitress leaves, Steve says, “You always loved pancakes.”

“Really?” Bucky says, glancing up from under his bangs.

“They were your favorite,” Steve says. Bucky smiles at that—a smile that Steve calls “new Bucky.” It’s small and thin, but very much there.

Their food arrives, and they dig in. Bucky eats around the edge of his plate, with small hesitant bites, while Helena eats as much and as fast as she can, pouring extra syrup on everything.

“That girl loves her breakfast foods,” Sam mutters, and Steve can’t help but laugh.

“Everyone loves breakfast foods,” Steve says.

“Helena?” Bucky asks, concerned, and Steve looks up to see Helena frozen and pale, clutching onto her knife like a lifeline. She’s flipped it around as if getting ready to stab someone, and he casually turns around and follows her gaze, only to see—

The woman at the other booth is an almost perfect copy of Helena. Her hair is dark, and she’s more put together, but they could be twins. She’s got two small children and a man with her, and they’re having what looks like a perfectly pleasant morning.

Bucky leans into Helena, whispering into her ear and gently working the knife out of her hands. As soon as he pulls it free, she leaps up, mutters “ _vybachte_ ,” and darts out the front door. Bucky goes after her immediately, leaving Steve and Sam alone at the table.

“Should I—“

“Go,” Sam says, taking another bite of his waffles. “I reserve the right to eat your bacon while you’re gone.”

“Deal,” Steve says, getting to his feet.

It takes a few minutes of aimless wandering around the parking lot, but he finally finds them behind the dumpster. Helena has the hood of her jacket up and her head buried in Bucky’s chest, shaking slightly. Bucky has his arms wrapped around her, and he’s murmuring something Steve can’t hear.

Steve leans against the wall, and waits until Bucky notices him. “Everything all right?” he asks.

“Fine,” Bucky says, stroking Helena’s hair. “Don’t worry about it.”

Helena is subdued for the rest of the day, and when they get back to Steve’s apartment, she shuts herself in the spare room with Kira and doesn’t come out.

“What happened?” Steve asks Bucky in an undertone.

Bucky chews his lip for a moment. “She just got reminded of the old days, is all,” he says finally. “It’s okay.”

It doesn’t seem okay, but Steve lets it go.

*   *   *   *   *  

He’s awoken abruptly in the middle of the night by Bucky, who’s standing wide-eyed at the edge of his bed.

“Rebecca,” he blurts out. “I had a sister named Rebecca.”

Steve blinks a few times, clearing his head, and Helena appears at the door. “What is it, _dushka_?” she asks, yawning.

“We called her Becky,” Bucky says. “Bucky and Becky Barnes.”

“That’s right,” Steve says, sitting up. “She was a cute kid.”

“I remember her,” Bucky says, staring at the floor. “Becky. How could I have forgotten my own sister?”

“It happens, Buck,” Steve says, putting his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault. At least you remember her now.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. Helena steps up and takes Bucky’s hand, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Do we have any pictures?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Steve says.

*   *   *   *   *  

Sam and Bucky get along beautifully—almost better than Steve and Bucky do, these days. Steve tries not to think about that too hard.

Sam’s been taking Bucky to the gym, just to give him an outlet and a space away from the emotional turmoil of Helena and Steve, leaving the two of them alone. It’s uncomfortable for both of them, Steve thinks. Helena perches on the recliner, pulling her knees into her chest, and stares at him. Steve does his best to sit on the couch, read, and pretend he doesn’t notice.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” he says finally, putting down his book. “Bucky and Sam are out doing their thing, we might as well do something too.”

She glares suspiciously at him before shrugging. “Fine.”

“What kinds of movies do you like?” he says, getting up and going to the DVD cabinet. “I’ve got a pretty good collection, considering I’m new to the whole DVD thing.”

“I never watched movies,” Helena says absently. “We didn’t watch television in the convent.”

“You lived in a convent?” Steve asks, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“ _Da_ ,” Helena says, picking at a stray thread on her shirt. “In Ukraine. What kind of movies do _you_ like?” she asks, changing the subject before he can inquire further.

“Animation, mostly,” he says. “They’ve been doing some great things with it these days.”

Helena nods. “Then I will pick an animation movie.”

“Do you want snacks?”

“ _Da_ ,” Helena says, peering at the shelf.

“You pick a movie, and I’ll make some popcorn or something,” Steve says, leaving her there. When he comes back into the living room, holding one bowl for each of them, Helena presents him with a DVD case.”

“ _Lilo and Stitch_ ,” she says. “I like the name. Lee-low.”

It’s one of Steve’s favorites as is, so he’s more than happy to pop the disc in.

Helena pays rapt attention, giggling constantly. It’s the most innocent she’s ever sounded, and considering what she’s capable of, it’s pretty jarring.

The movie passes without incident until almost the very end, when the aliens attack Lilo’s house and the social worker arrives to take her away. “ _Stop_ ,” Helena says, voice rough. Steve pauses the movie and looks over to see tears streaming down Helena’s cheeks.

“In the end,” she says, voice wavering, “do they take her away? Do they take her away from Nani?”

“No,” Steve says. “It turns out all right. Lilo stays.”

Helena takes in a shuddery breath. “Okay. Make it go again.”

Steve plays the movie, and after a few minutes, Helena gets off the recliner and gingerly sits on the couch, leaning her head on his shoulder.

His sleeve is drenched in minutes.

They sit that way long after the credits have stopped. “Do you have a sister?” Helena asks, sniffling.

“No,” Steve says. “Do you?”

“Yes,” Helena says. “No.”

He waits patiently for her to continue.

“I have a sister,” she says eventually. “Twin _sestra_.”

She does not say any more.

He takes the empty popcorn bowls to the kitchen and washes them out. As he’s drying them, he can hear Helena muttering to herself in the other room.

“Nobody gets left behind,” she says. “Or forgotten. Do you hear that, Sarah?” she says, picking the cat up and scratching behind its ears. “You won’t be left behind.”

*   *   *   *   *  

When Steve comes back from his morning jog with Sam, Helena is perched on the couch with an alarmingly large stack of papers in her hands. Bucky’s stretched out with his head in her lap, eyes closed and hand clutching the picture of Becky that Steve had found.

“Are you sure you want to do this, _ptashenya_?” Helena asks gently. This, more than anything, is what makes Steve stop in the hallway and watch. If Helena is suggesting that Bucky not do something, that probably means Bucky wanted to do it in the first place.

He’s making a choice.

“I’m sure,” he says, taking a deep breath. “Go ahead.”

Helena nods, and flips through a few of the pages. “Enrico Mattei,” she says. “Italian politician. Died in 1962 by a bomb in his plane.” She pauses, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t know who that is.”

“I don’t either,” Bucky says.

“That’s good, right?” Helena says, obviously trying to be encouraging.

Bucky is silent for a moment. “Not really,” he says finally. “He could have lived.”

Helena strokes his hair and says nothing.

“Did he have a family?” Bucky asks.

“It didn’t say.”

Bucky takes another deep breath. “Okay. Who’s next?”

Helena put aside a few pages. “John F. Kennedy. American president. Shot in 1963. Says someone else was framed.”

Bucky’s eyes open. “Who?”

“I don’t know.” Helena looks up, catching Steve’s eye. “Who shot Mister Kennedy?”

“Lee Harvey Oswald,” Steve says, thinking back to the documentaries he’d checked out from the library. “Then he got shot two days later.”

“Was that one me, too?” Bucky asks quietly.

Helena shuffles the papers around for a moment. “I don’t think so,” she says. “He’s not on the list.”

“What list is that?” Steve asks, growing dread in the pit of his stomach.

“My missions,” Bucky says. “We found them on the internet.”

Steve approaches the couch cautiously, and sits down on the nearby ottoman. “You know it wasn’t your fault, Buck,” he says. “Right? You were brainwashed.”

“I know,” Bucky says, though Steve isn’t sure if he believes it. “I just…I just want to _know_.”

Steve nods. “Do you want me to leave?”

Bucky hesitates, and then shakes his head. “Stay.”

Helena moves a few pages to the back and continues reading. “Martin Luther King Jr. Civil Rights activist. Died 1968 of a gunshot wound. Richard Welch, CIA. Shot in Greece in 1975. Henri Curel, Egyptian activist, died in 1978.”

The list stretches on and on, finally ending with “Alexander Litvinenko, former Russian secret service. Died of radiation poisoning in 2006.”

“Radiation poisoning,” Bucky murmurs. “That sounds really unpleasant.”

“ _Tse normalʹno_ , James,” Helena says, running her hands through his hair as she stares intently at the papers. “ _Tse ne vasha vyna_.”

“The couple in ’91,” Bucky says. “What were their names again?”

Helena consults the relevant page. “Howard and Maria Stark.”

“I know those names,” Bucky says. He tilts his head to look at Steve. “Why do I know them?”

“Howard worked with us in the war,” Steve says. “He was a weapons manufacturer. His son is the one who fixes your arm now.”

“Oh,” Bucky says quietly.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Steve says, scrambling for something to say. It’s hideously inadequate, he knows, but it’s all he’s got.

“I know,” Bucky says, and this time Steve knows it’s a lie.

*   *   *   *   *  

He pauses to say hello to Sharon when he gets back from his jog. She’s on her way out to take her golden retriever for a walk, and when the dog sees Steve, she jumps up and tries to lick his face.

“Diana, _down_ ,” she says. “Sorry, Captain.”

“You can just call me Steve,” he says. “I think we’re at that point.”

“All right, Steve,” she says. “How are things going with the assassins?”

“Decently, I think,” he says. “Turns out Bucky killed Kennedy and Helena was raised by nuns.”

Sharon tilts her head. “Yeah, I could see that. She came over yesterday while you were jogging.”

“Really?” Steve says, raising an eyebrow.

“Really,” Sharon says. “She just wanted to say hello, I think.”

Steve leans against the doorframe. “You get any insights?”

“She’s a nice girl,” Sharon says. “A little strange, but nice.”

“If you ever wanted to take her out somewhere, that would be wonderful,” Steve says. “Sam gets Bucky out of the house, but Helena doesn’t have anyone to go out with besides me and Bucky.”

“She can come with when I walk Diana,” Sharon says. “Diana likes her.”

“Great,” Steve says. “I’ll talk to her about it.”

*   *   *   *   *  

He wakes up one night to hear screaming, which these days, isn’t unusual. He’s starting to consider soundproofing the apartment.

This time, it’s not Bucky crying out—it’s Helena. When he gets to their room, she’s holding her head in her hands, sobbing, as she rocks back and forth. Steve crosses the room and squats down beside the bed.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asks quietly.

Bucky shakes his head, but Helena takes a shaky breath and says, “Can we watch _Lilo and Stitch_?”

“Sure,” Steve says. “I’ll go set it up.”

He does just that while Bucky carries Helena into the living room and settles onto the couch. The movie rolls on and they sit in silence, almost until the very end.

“This is my family,” Helena murmurs along with the screen. “I found it all on my own.”

The little grey kitten chooses this moment to jump up on the couch, stretching and curling up on Bucky’s leg. “What if we named him Stitch?” Bucky says, scratching behind his ears.

Helena smiles slightly. “Only if that’s what you want to name him. He’s _your_ cat.”

“It’s what I want,” Bucky says firmly, tucking a stray curl behind Helena’s ear.

“Stitch it is,” she murmurs, and not for the first time, Steve feels like he’s intruding on a private, intimate moment.

He doesn’t like the feeling.

*   *   *   *   *  

Coney Island is Bucky’s idea.

They invite Sam and Sharon to come, and drive down on a long weekend. Helena sings along loudly and enthusiastically whenever a song she recognizes comes on the radio, and quickly drags Sam into singing along with her. Bucky spends the drive leaning his forehead on the window, smiling as he stares outside. It’s not “new Bucky” at all, this time. It’s a pure Bucky smile, the kind he used to have when Steve dragged him into trouble back in Brooklyn.

“Will you sing with us, Miss Sharon?” Helena says, sticking her head in between the front seats.

Sharon smiles. “I would, Miss Helena, but I’m driving.”

“You can sing and drive. Is not hard.”

“Okay, I’ll sing,” she says. “But only if Steve sings too.”

Steve is about to say no, but he hears Bucky start to sing along from the back, off-key and with all the wrong lyrics.

So Steve sings.

Sharon’s truck hurtles down the highway, as all five of them raise their voices. Steve catches Helena and Bucky giggling and making faces as they try to out-sing each other, and thinks that maybe things will be okay.

When they arrive and go up to buy wristbands, Bucky says, “Do we get senior citizen discounts?”

Steve stares at him in surprise for a minute, while Helena collapses into a helpless fit of giggles. Sam follows suit, and soon everyone is laughing, much to the bewilderment of the ticket girl.

Sam and Sharon drag Helena off to introduce her to cotton candy as soon as they’re through the gates, and Bucky makes a beeline for the Cyclone.

“You gonna throw up this time?” he says as they take their seats.

“You better hope not,” Steve says.

Bucky doesn’t yell at the first drop, doesn’t even put his hands up. Instead, he just clings to the bar and stares out, letting the wind whip his hair in his face. His expression is the calmest Steve’s seen it since waking up in the new world.

Helena runs up to them as they get off the ride. “James, eat this!” she says, stuffing a piece of cotton candy in his mouth.

He chews slowly, making a face. “Too sweet.”

“You’re no fun,” she says, sticking her tongue out at him. “Now come on, I want to go on the flying trapeze ride.”

He takes her hand and they plunge into the crowd together. By the time Steve, Sam, and Sharon catch up, they’re already in the air. Helena’s hair catches the sunlight, looking like a halo flowing out behind her, and Bucky’s looking up at her like she’s the entire world.

“I think they’re going to be okay,” Sam says softly. “Maybe not right now, but eventually. They’re going to be okay.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I just wanted to thank you all so so much for the response I've gotten to this series! It's been so much more than I ever expected. I'm not done with these two yet, and I'm going to keep the stories coming!


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